


The Lilies Have Died

by baeconandeggs, theworldwithkaisoo



Category: EXO
Genre: BAE2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldwithkaisoo/pseuds/theworldwithkaisoo
Summary: An endless hall and a beautiful boy.





	The Lilies Have Died

**Author's Note:**

> Author: anonymous  
> Prompt#: 387  
> Title: The Lilies Have Died  
> Word Count: 12734  
> Side Pairing(s): none  
> Rating: PG-15 ??  
> Warning(s): mention/description of committing suicide, swearing  
> Disclaimer:  
> The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being  
> made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: You know that moment when you say a word over and over and it starts to sound weird, yeah, that’s how I feel about the transitions between my scenes— sorry if it gets confusing. This concept was also inspired by the anime Death Parade! To the prompter,  
> I can’t say this is mind-blowing or thoughtful, but I do hope you enjoy it. Also, shout out to my beta who helped a lot more than they probably think! (I appreciate it). As always, thanks to the mods for hosting this~ I’m glad I was able to participate this  
> round. Also, the epilogue is totally optional. I only included it because I couldn’t decided if I wanted to take it away or not. (it doesn’t really add/take away from the overall plot)

White. That was the first thing that Chanyeol saw when he woke up. Blinding white. It took him several tries to keep his eyes open. He was laying on his back and when he sat up he was confused. In front of him were doors upon doors, lining a hallway, and when he looked behind him, it was the same thing. Each door was flush with the wall and was a meter apart from the next, there was nothing extraordinary about them. Everything in the hall was white, except for the small, silver door knobs.  
  
He stood and decided he would walk, surely the hallway would end at some point.  
  
“Hello?” Chanyeol called out, hoping that someone would answer. The more doors he passed the more curious he became to see what was behind them. He was hesitant, but he stopped and faced the door that was on his right. He twisted the cold, metal knob and was surprised to find it unlocked.  
  
The door creaked as he slowly opened it. He peered his head through and found that it was dark inside. So dark that the only source of light was from the hallway. It casted only on a small area of the room. Somewhere inside, Chanyeol heard a whimper of a child.  
  
“Hello?” He called out to the sound. But it just kept crying. He stayed by the door and called out again. But he could hear the child still sobbing quietly.  
  
He looked down the hallway, hoping that someone had arrived. He sighed before resolving to go in only to stop before taking a single step forward. There was something so familiar about this, that it crept it’s way up his chest. It was like the door was a lock he opened and now he has to face what he tried to seal away. He tried to shake off the feeling so he could enter the room, but before he could do so another door opened from inside the room. Only it wasn’t a regular door. It had shutters on it and folded in on itself, like a closet door would.  
  
The small portion of light that filtered through the newly opened door casted more light into the small room. There was a line of clothes that hung above the child’s head. The boy looked to be about seven or eight. He had his head covered by his arms, while it rested against his knees.  
  
When he looked back at the open door, he saw a blurred, feminine figure. Chanyeol rubbed at his eyes to clear them. But, there wasn't anything wrong with them. He had to look back at the hallway to make sure.  
  
When the figure spoke, it was a jumbled mess. He couldn't make out the words but the child could understand. The only reason Chanyeol could tell this was because the boy started to cry hard. But suddenly, the child lifted his head causing Chanyeol to stumble back into the hall with a gasp. He hit the wall behind him which caused the breath in his lungs to leave. The child stood to his full height and turned towards Chanyeol.  
  
Both the boy and the blurry figure took several steps towards Chanyeol. The blurry figure started to clear as it stopped walking. After a moment, and with a squint of his eyes, he realized that the figure was his mother. Then when he looked down at the boy, he knew that it was _him_. Chanyeol remembered that night. He had locked himself in his closet because his father said he wouldn't be able to go to the music school he wanted to go to because “ _music was a waste of time_ ”.  
  
His younger self glared down at him before he opened his mouth.  
  
“You promised. Youpromisedyoupromisedyoupromised. You promised!” the child’s voice got progressively louder and louder until he slammed the door shut. Leaving Chanyeol to slide down the wall as he felt warm tears tumble down his face. He wasn't sure why though.  
  
  
  
Chanyeol wasn't sure how long he sat there for, but it was long enough for the tears to dry up. He was overwhelmed and scared. Seeing his past self was surreal. And weird. It also left a heaviness in his heart that he couldn’t fully understand because he just _couldn’t_ remember.  
  
When Chanyeol finally moved his head, he felt a stiffness in his neck. He turned his head left, expecting to see the never ending hall, but instead he was surprised to see something else.  
  
He got up to his feet with stiff joints, and walked over. There was an open room with two plain white couches and a coffee table. There was a chandelier that hung from the tall ceiling. Behind the far couch was an unmanned bar and some random plants that scattered through the room.  
  
He definitely would've remembered seeing the area before, when did it get here?  
  
Chanyeol walked over to the bar and peered over the counter. There were various bottles of alcohol and glasses. Nothing that would’ve been out of order.  
  
“Hello.”  
  
Chanyeol swung around at the voice. But no one was in front of him. _Was he just hearing things?_ He took a step away from the bar and scanned the room. But then, he noticed movement from above.  
  
When he looked up, the chandelier was replaced by a boy, his already pale skin looked even paler in contrast to his white clothes. What was odd about the boy, was how he was wrapped in several silver chains. They were of varying lengths and sizes. The smaller ones were wrapped loosely along his body. While the thicker ones were used to hold him up. He swung back and forth gently on one of the thickest chains which acted like a child’s swing. His delicate fingers were wrapped carefully around the chains as he looked down at Chanyeol with a droopy gaze. He was pretty sure he had seen those eyes somewhere before.  
  
Chanyeol didn't say anything right away. Instead he stared at the boy and tried to figure out whether he was going crazy or not.  
  
_What the fuck is going on?_  
  
“Who are you?” He asked at first, feeling utterly lost. “W-where am I?”  
  
“I don't have a name,” the boy said calmly. “You can call me whatever you please.”  
  
“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said to the boy. It was the first and only name that came to his mind. Though, he wasn't sure why he was being so compliant.  
  
The boy—no, Baekhyun, smiled. “Baekhyun it is.”  
  
“Where am I, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked again. “This...Wasn't always here, right?”  
  
Baekhyun smiled wider. “You're very observant. But all you need to know, is that you are safe here.”  
  
And Chanyeol believed that. He truly did even though there was no reason to. He was in a strange place, that had changing halls and mysterious, unlocked doors. Yet, he felt calm. Curious, but calm. Being with someone in a strange place made him feel a little safer than if he were here alone.  
  
“But, _where_ are we?” Chanyeol asked. He raised his arms a bit, slightly swinging them back and forth as he looked around the room. “Are we still on Earth?”  
  
Baekhyun turned his head slightly as if was trying to think of the best response. “Just think of it as the in between.”  
  
“In between of what?”  
  
“Just the in between.”  
  
Chanyeol sighed. These ambiguous answers were puzzling. “What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?”  
  
Baekhyun swung back and forth lightly before he responded. “What did you see earlier? When you opened the door.”  
  
Chanyeol scrunched his eyebrows together. “A memory from my childhood. But, I don’t remember anything else from my life.”  
  
“Yes, that’s normal.”  
  
“Normal?” He tilted his head slightly. “Why is that normal?”  
  
“Because if you remember everything right away you won’t be able to learn anything.”  
  
“Do all of the doors contain my memories?”  
  
Baekhyun shook his head causing some chestnut strands to flow out of place. “Not all, but most.”  
  
Chanyeol's neck was starting to hurt from looking up the whole time. But there were questions that needed answers. “What are you supposed to do then?”  
  
“You can think of me as a guide,” Baekhyun said.  
  
“And what am I supposed to find?”  
  
“It’s different for everyone,” Baekhyun said slightly shrugging. The chain around his shoulders rattled at the movement. “We’ll just have to find out.”  
  
Chanyeol moved in order to sit on the couch. He looked at the clear, polished surface of the coffee table as he spoke quietly. “And what happens if I don’t want to?”  
  
He heard the chains rattled and then suddenly, Baekhyun was right in front of him. He was still on the chains, slightly swinging back and forth. He was hovering inches above the coffee table, any closer and his toes would be touching the wood.  
  
“I’m not forcing you to do anything, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said. He leaned his head against the chain. “But there isn’t much for you to do here.”  
  
“How do you know my name?” Chanyeol asked. He never remembered giving it to him.  
  
“I just know.”  
  
Chanyeol sighed at another ambiguous answer and leaned his head back against the couch, before standing up suddenly, which surprised Baekhyun.  
  
“Fine, let’s go open some doors of the past.”  
  
  
  
They were both standing in front of the closest door. Or well, Chanyeol was standing and Baekhyun was still sitting on the chain-swing. Chanyeol tried to watch how the chains moved, but there was a blur where the chains met the ceiling.  
  
When Chanyeol turned around to look back at the sitting area, it was gone. Instead the long hallway was back.  
  
He was going to have to get used to this.  
  
  
  
“Do you know what’s on the other side of the door?” Chanyeol asked. The plain white door stared blankly back at him.  
  
Baekhyun didn’t answer at first. “I do.”  
  
“I assume you aren’t going to tell me?”  
  
“No,” Baekhyun said softly. The chains rattled as he leaned his head on one side. “Don’t be afraid.”  
  
He wasn’t even going to try to deny that he was.  
  
Chanyeol reached out and grasped the knob. It was cold to the touch. When he twisted it slightly to the right, a resonant click sounded through the quiet hall. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed the door inwards. Bright light welcomed him.  
  
The first thing he heard was the monotone voice of someone talking. Something that Chanyeol didn’t bother to focus on. When the surroundings became clear, the images in front of him unfolded. There were rows of desks filled with high school students. He recognized the uniforms immediately. But he didn’t recognize any of the students, nor the teacher, as they were all blurred, like his mother was. The walls and floor were still the same whiteness that appeared in the hallway. Chanyeol and Baekhyun were standing at the front of a class, by the door. The former was surprised to see that Baekhyun was only a couple inches shorter than him.  
  
“Mr. Park,” Chanyeol turned his head toward the teacher, but the teacher wasn’t looking at him. Her blurred face was looking towards the back of the room, where a student was resting his head against the desk, most likely sleeping. The moment the boy lifted his head towards the teacher was the moment his face became clear. Chanyeol recognised the large ears but he couldn’t place a name to the face. The next thing he noticed was the small bruise on the corner of his left eye. The teacher said nothing of it as she continued to speak to him. However, Chanyeol couldn’t help but drone out the voice again. He centered in on that bruise. Thoughts filling his mind. He felt something deep in his chest.  
  
He watched the boy's eyes drift away from the teacher and Chanyeol followed his gaze when the boy blushed and bit his bottom lip, as if he was embarrassed.  
  
There was a girl on the other side of the classroom, who was looking at the boy. Her shoulder length hair was straight and covered part of her now cleared face. Even with a half covered face, the girl had caused the boy to blush, with just a simple gaze.  
  
Baekhyun swept his hand in front of himself and the scene in front of them started to change. Starting from the left, the image, following Baekhyun’s movement, turn white and then changed slowly into something else. Though the images were still forming, Chanyeol was still able to hear. Instead of the monotone voice of the teacher, he heard shouting. It was hard to make out the words but as the sounds got louder and tones became more aggressive, he knew that it was shouting. Then there was a resonant sound of a slap that reverberated in Chanyeol’s ears. This caused him to flinch and close his eyes.  
It was the sound of pounding feet and a slam of a door that caused him to open his eyes.  
  
  
  
Chanyeol found himself sitting on a bench, beside the boy from earlier. The boy had his head down with his fingers clenched in his hair. Chanyeol could see the whites of his knuckles. Much like the classroom, the surrounding environment was white, except for the areas that were in a focused area.  
  
“What…” Chanyeol said out loud. He turned his head and looked for Baekhyun. He was off in the distance looking at the fountain which was in the middle of the park. Chanyeol got up and walked over to him, leaving the boy on the bench. Every step he took caused the whiteness of the floor to change to the paved ground of the park— but just as quickly as Chanyeol took his steps, the floor reverted back to it’s whiteness. “What is happening? I thought we were seeing my past?”  
  
“The doors decide what you get to see,” Baekhyun answered. “I have no control over them.”  
  
“Well, what is this kid supposed to teach me?” Chanyeol turned back around and saw the little girl from earlier. She was several steps in front of the boy.  
  
“Minho,” the girl said. Minho raised his head and looked towards the girl.  
  
“Sunyoung,” Minho said. Chanyeol recognized both of their names. He knew he did. But he couldn’t figure it out. Everytime he tried to pin down the memory or thought, it slipped away. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Chanyeol heard a small gasp come from her mouth. He didn’t notice it before, but Minho had redness around his right eye, bruising under the skin was already forming. But Chanyeol took another look at Minho. He stared harder. There was something about him that reminded him of someone. It was the look in his eye. A stubbornness. A sadness that couldn’t be explained.  
  
“Is everything okay?” Sunyoung asked.  
  
Minho grumbled something too low for Chanyeol to hear.  
  
“What happened?” Sunyoung took a seat next to Minho.  
  
The rushing of the water behind Chanyeol was the only sound made during those few moments.  
  
Minho still hadn't taken a look at Sunyoung. “I want to leave.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
Minho shrugged.  
  
“Why?” This time Sunyoung asked it so quietly that Chanyeol almost didn't hear the words.  
  
“So I can do what I want. So that I won't have my parents always telling me what to do.”  
  
Something ran through Chanyeol then. He felt as if he had this conversation before. Chanyeol could almost imagine the life the boy lived. Suffocating parents who always pushed and pushed. Never once asking if this was what their child wanted. Never once wondering if their child was okay.  
  
He could imagine himself in Minho’s position. Sitting on a bench after another disagreement with his parents. Having a friend come comfort him. Having...Yun--  
  
Chanyeol turned away then. Back towards the fountain that Baekhyun was still gazing at. He could hear the faint conversation in the background.  
  
“You know, your parents are just trying to do what’s best for you,” Sunyoung said. Chanyeol watched as the water sputtered up, up and up, until it reached its peak. He watched it over and over again.  
  
“What? By forcing me to do things I don’t want to do?”  
  
“They’re just trying to make sure you have a good life.”  
  
_Why did it feel like her words were for him?_ Chanyeol thought.  
  
“They’re making me hate my life,” Minho said quietly. The jets of water started to slow down. Slowly turning off. “They want me to go to America until I graduate high school.”  
  
There was a pause in the conversation, just as the final drops of water landed, causing the final ripples to course through the body of water.  
  
“That’s far.”  
  
“They want me to study there so it’ll be easier for me to get into a good university. So I can get a good job to live a good life with a good wife--” Chanyeol could hear the frustration in the boys voice.  
  
“Minho…”  
  
Around then Chanyeol could see tears in Sunyoung’s eyes. She had placed her hand on his.  
  
“Sunyoung,” Minho said. His eyes widened when their gaze met. “Why—?”  
  
“You should go,” she said. “You should go to America.”  
  
Minho didn’t say anything as she continued to speak. Again, Chanyeol felt something ring true to him.  
  
Suddenly, she stood up and gave him a soft smile. “I need to get back home.” Minho said nothing as she turned to walk away. She stopped walking after a couple a steps and turned to face him. “If you do go, don’t forget about me, yeah?”  
  
Minho stood from his seat on the bench. “I won’t.”  
  
There was something in the way that the pair looked at each other that brought something to Chanyeol's mind. It was faint, like a whisper.  
  
_You better not forget me._  
  
Chanyeol turned his head and was surprised to see Baekhyun already looking at him.  
  
“What--?”  
  
“These doors, Chanyeol, will teach you everything. Or nothing,” Baekhyun said calmly. “What you take from them is up to you.”  
  
Chanyeol looked back at the scene but instead of seeing Minho, he saw himself. And it wasn’t the park anymore. He was in his bedroom, sitting on the floor with his best friend. How did he know this? He doesn’t remember who his friend was or how his bedroom looked like. However, deep in his gut, his intuition was telling him that this was his best friend and his room. And he chose to believe this, because what else would a man with a lost memory believe?  
  
There was a creak as a door opened behind Chanyeol and a silver light casted through it. He turned away from the image and saw Baekhyun holding open a door. Without much thought Chanyeol walked through.  
  
They were back in the white hallway now. And there was an inkling in his chest that wouldn't go away. The images in his head were so vivid.  
  
Baekhyun said nothing as Chanyeol leaned his head against the wall across from the door. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was forgetting something important.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The whiteroom started to change forms. The first thing to appear was a stool, which held a cellphone and a water bottle, then an easel. There was a canvas that rested on it. The painter faded in as he was working on his piece. The background of the piece was a faint light green and the closer it got to the center the more faint it became until it was white. The artist was carefully painting jagged lines down the canvas.  
  
Chanyeol watched as he took a dark shade of green paint and mixed a little water in it. As he brought his brush to the canvas Chanyeol saw how the paint was thinner causing the excess to drip down, helping to create even more uneven lines.  
  
He couldn’t tell what the painter was doing, nor what he was trying to create. But the more Chanyeol watched on the more Chanyeol appreciated the work he put into his painting. How after every new line he would take a moment to contemplate his work, only to then continue on, like he already knew what he was going to do.  
  
The more Chanyeol watched the more the piece was slowly coming together. He could see it now. The artist was painting a forest. The light green background made sense to him now. It acted as a way to represent the rest of the greenery of the forest without actually having to paint all of it.  
  
As much as Chanyeol would’ve loved to have watched the painter continue his work, a beeping sound rang through the room. This caused the artist to sigh loudly and put his brush down.  
  
Chanyeol watched his expression change almost instantly when he turned off his alarm. His peaceful expression change into something more tense. A scowl set itself onto his face.  
  
  
Chanyeol and Baekhyun watched as the room changed once again. This time the artist was standing behind a counter at a restaurant. He was in uniform, speaking with his coworker.  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes flicked down to his name tag, that rested above the left side of his chest. Jongdae.  
  
“How are your classes going?” his coworker ask him. Jongdae shrugged.  
  
“As good as it can get.”  
  
“Are you sleeping enough?” the other asked, his lips pursed. “You look more tired than usual.”  
  
“I think that three hours is enough,” Jongdae smirked, showing a faint dimple. Chanyeol could tell that the boy was at the point of exhaustion, as the boy had deep bags under his eyes. “Don’t you?”  
  
“F-four? Dae…”  
  
“Min, don’t worry, my dear friend,” Jongdae said, lightly patting his friend's shoulder. “I’m doing this to myself cause I like it.”  
  
“You like getting three hours of sleep?”  
  
Jongdae chuckled. “God no. But I do love creating and I don’t know. Passion knows no bounds.”  
  
“How poetic.”  
  
There was a ring that sounded through the restaurant as a new crowd of people entered.  
  
  
Again, the room changed. But this time, it was a messy studio apartment. Though, it wasn’t messy with clothes, it was filled with art supplies. Paint scattered a small corner of the room. Canvases blank and filled, leaned against the far wall. Even the small kitchen had paint brushes around the sink.  
  
Jongdae had finished showering after his shift and was now working on a different piece than what he was doing earlier. Chanyeol noticed that there was a calender that rested just beside Jongdae’s frame. From what Chanyeol could tell it was his schedule.  
  
He worked almost everyday after class and he had various things circled that Chanyeol could almost assume to be assignment dates that happen almost every week. He was busy everyday and by the looks of the apartment, he wasn’t living a lavish lifestyle. Various points on the wall were chipped and he could even see a crack or two. Somewhere in the distance, Chanyeol could also hear the faint dripping of a tap, something that he could only assume had always done that.  
  
_Why would he be happy living like this?_ Chanyeol wondered.  
  
  
  
Jongdae woke with a start. He had only gone to bed about an hour ago, after staying up most of the night finishing two projects that were due later that day. But still he got up with a groan and got ready. It was 7 in the morning, yet he made his way to a coffee shop and then the local flower shop to grab a fresh batch of stargazer lilies.  
  
Chanyeol and Baekhyun followed Jongdae as he walked, every step forming a sidewalk and then reforming to whiteness, and they found themselves at a graveyard. Jongdae walked in between the stones, almost like his feet knew where to take him without much thought. Baekhyun stopped walking, suddenly, when Jongdae did, that Chanyeol almost didn’t noticed he was alone. Baekhyun was several stones away and Chanyeol was directly between them.  
  
“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol said to him when he turned to face the other.  
  
Baekhyun shook his head. He hesitantly threw a glance at the stone that Jongdae was at and then turned his back to them. “I’m fine.”  
  
Chanyeol wanted to question him, but there was something pulling him to see what Jongdae was looking at. He walked closer to Jongdae and tried to read the name on the headstone.  
  
But the words were blurry. He squinted his eyes, hoping that the text would clear. But the only letter he could read was _‘y’_.  
  
“I miss you, cuz,” Jongdae said quietly as he placed the lilies on the ground. Chanyeol’s eyes wandered over to another headstone that was several rows away. He couldn’t say for sure, but, he thought he saw a familiar _‘Park’_ engraved on it.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Chanyeol took a seat on the edge of the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. His head was hung forward as he spoke.  
  
“Why would he do that to himself? Why struggle like that everyday?”  
  
Baekhyun took a moment before he responded. “To some people happiness is more important than money.”  
  
“Which do _you_ think is better than?” Chanyeol raised his head and looked at Baekhyun. He had his right knee raised to his chest. How he managed to balance on one chain, without more support, baffled Chanyeol.  
  
“Everyone is different. People have different values,” Baekhyun said carefully. “Some value happiness over money and others don’t.”  
  
Chanyeol sighed and leaned back against the couch. It was an awkward angle for him. His chin was bent towards his chest and his back wasn’t touching the couch. “Such a safe answer. Tell me what you _really_ think.”  
  
Chanyeol was sure that this was the first time that he had seen Baekhyun with a different expression. He had straighten his posture and had a faint blush on his cheeks.  
  
“I-I,” Baekhyun cleared his throat. Chanyeol felt a little proud of himself because he was able to stumble Baekhyun. He looked cute. “I think that happiness is much more important than money. Money should never be a defining factor for one's happiness.  
  
“Yes, you should work hard and do your best, but if you’re unhappy, is it really worth it?” Baekhyun said thoughtfully.  
  
This left Chanyeol to wonder about his own life. Did he value happiness over money?  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The room around them formed and Chanyeol immediately knew that it was his bedroom. The moment his eyes focus on the small pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, he remembered. They were standing in a corner of the room.  
  
  
It wasn’t a big room. But it was big enough to fit his bed, a couple dressers and his computer table. Clothes were scattered around the floor and his bed was unmade. Typical. But Younger Chanyeol always liked to argue that he didn’t have time to keep his room clean because he needed to maintain his GPA. Though, technically, that was a lie. Chanyeol was lucky enough to be naturally gifted when it came to learning things quickly. That was really the only reason why he had managed to have such good grades. He didn’t need to spend hours studying, like some of his friends. Though, his parents believed that he was spending all his free time studying. When in actuality, he was composing songs.  
  
That was something he had kept from his parents and a majority of his friends. The only person that knew was his best friend, Yun. Yun and he had been friends ever since they were kids. It was Yun who had introduced Chanyeol to composing and it was Yun who always encouraged Chanyeol to practice.  
  
  
Younger Chanyeol had his headset on and his lamp turn on. His short black hair rested neatly under the headphones. He was using some cheap application that allowed him to do some basic composing. To his left was an electric keyboard. A few years earlier, he had convinced his parents he wanted to learn piano. He taught himself, and with that he used it as a base to compile different types of sounds.  
  
“Nice room,” Baekhyun noted. Chanyeol hummed as he walked over to Younger Chanyeol, who was hunched over his desk. Chanyeol stood behind the younger and peered at what he was doing on his computer. Chanyeol had to admit, that the way his room was set up was very, very clever. Younger Chanyeol had it so that his desk faced the bedroom door, so that the screen would be hidden from anyone entering the room.  
  
He was also smart enough to keep his school work placed in front of him, so if his parents came in they would see his notebooks.  
  
Baekhyun walked over to where both Chanyeol’s were, causing the whiteness of the floor to change with every step.  
  
“What’s he working on?”  
  
“I’m—he’s—we’re?” Chanyeol started to confuse himself. “It’s supposed to be a song for Yun. My best friend.”  
  
“How old were you here?” Baekhyun asked, looking around the room. Chanyeol, himself, wasn’t to sure. He leaned in closer to the screen, his head stopping right beside Younger Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol looked over the notes on the screen. He only ever really wrote songs for Yun, but Chanyeol remembered each and everyone.  
  
He read the first two notes and immediately knew. “Sixteen.”  
  
This was about the fourth song he had written for his friend. This was the one song that made Chanyeol really passionate for music.  
  
“I’m really proud of this one,” Chanyeol said to Baekhyun when he extended to his full height again. “Everyone gave so much praise to it. They kept begging Yun to tell them who made it.”  
  
“Didn’t they know it was you?” Baekhyun said tilting his head to the side.  
  
Chanyeol shook his head. “I kept everyone in the dark. This was our little secret. Besides, I don’t think my parents would’ve been too happy.”  
  
Both Chanyeol and Baekhyun turned their heads towards the bedroom door when there was a knock. Speak of the devil.  
  
Chanyeol’s mother peeked her head through the door. Her image was clearer than the last time Chanyeol had seen her. He wasn't sure why that was. Maybe it was because he remember who she was, that her image became clear? But then that wouldn’t explain Minho or Sunyoung.  
  
Younger Chanyeol noticed the movement and discreetly changed his screen to his homework and removed his headphones. His mother stayed by the door.  
  
“How’s your homework going?” she asked him. He gave her a small smile.  
  
“Fine, good,” Younger Chanyeol said. “I still got a lot to do, so…”  
  
“Okay, good,” she said. She lingered a little longer than Younger Chanyeol would’ve like. She gave Younger Chanyeol one last look before shutting his door behind her as she went.  
  
Younger Chanyeol couldn’t help but noticed that she had been doing that more recently.  
  
Shaking his head, Younger Chanyeol went back to the original screen and saved his work. Just then his phone rang.  
  
It was Yun. Both Chanyeol’s knew who it was before even looking at the screen.  
  
“Hey,” Younger Chanyeol said into his phone. “What’s going on?”  
  
Both Chanyeol and Baekhyun had stayed as Younger Chanyeol talked on the phone with his friend. They talked for hours, going through topic to topic. A feeling of nostalgia ran through his bones as he listened. Through the mundaneness of their conversation, he could feel just how special Yun was for him. He wished that he was with Yun now, so he could hear the delicateness of his voice and feel this softness of his fingers, running through his hair. He needed his friend now more than ever.  
  
  
When Younger Chanyeol hung up the phone for the night, Chanyeol couldn’t help but noticed the small smile that resided on the younger's face.  
  
There was a small drop in Chanyeol’s heart when he saw it. But still, he found himself smiling along. He remembered what he had felt after their conversation, or really just how he always felt after all of their conversations. He was always filled with a lighthearted feeling in his chest. It was like Yun, whether he knew it or not, took away the pain that Chanyeol had kept hidden away from the world.  
  
For some reason, just before Chanyeol left he remembered about the first door he opened and the little boy who yelled at him. _You promised_.  
  
As Chanyeol looked at his adolescent self he couldn’t help but wonder what his child self had meant. What was it that he was forgetting?  
  
  
\---  
  
  
This time, Chanyeol opened the door with much hesitation. He took a couple steps in and he felt Baekhyun close behind. He could tell that _this_ was one of Chanyeol’s memories. Back when he was in highschool.  
  
Chanyeol and Baekhyun were in the back of the class. He could see himself in his seat. Younger Chanyeol always chose the middle of the classroom. He liked to be in the center. Liked the attention. He used it as a distraction to everything else in his life. If he could pretend that he was happy, that everything in his life was going according to ‘plan’, then maybe he could finally start believing it.  
  
That day, their homeroom teacher started talking about applying for universities, after her speech he had pulled Younger Chanyeol out of the classroom and handed him a pamphlet to the music school Younger Chanyeol, secretly, wanted to go to. His home room teacher was also the music teacher and she knew just how passionate Younger Chanyeol was when it came to music.  
  
At first he declined the pamphlet, but she kept insisting, saying that he should just apply to see what happens before talking to his parents about it. Chanyeol and Baekhyun watched as Younger Chanyeol stayed out in the hall. Younger Chanyeol was gripping the pamphlet hard.  
  
“I was thinking what would happen,” Chanyeol said out of the blue. “If I did get in. If my parents actually let me go.”  
  
Younger Chanyeol walked back into the classroom after tucking the pamphlet into his pants.  
  
Baekhyun and Chanyeol walked back into the classroom, but as they walked through the door, the room morphed into Chanyeol’s old bedroom.  
  
His mom walked into his room, while he was doing homework. She was holding the pamphlet his teacher gave him.  
  
“What is this, Chanyeol?” She asked him.  
  
When he first saw the pamphlet in her hands, he wanted to lie. But he knew that there was no excuse he could say that would convince her.  
  
“Nothing,” he said instead.  
  
“Chanyeol,” his mother used her warning tone. It was something she did when she was about to threaten him. “Do I have to get your father involved?”  
  
“No!” He said quickly. “No, it’s just a pamphlet my teacher showed me. That’s it.”  
  
“You better not be applying for it,” she said. She crumpled up the paper in her hands. Younger Chanyeol watched the paper intently. “You are not messing up our plans for you.”  
  
She turned and closed his door with a bang. She was mad, so was Younger Chanyeol. But he was mad for other reasons.  
  
“What were you thinking here?” Baekhyun asked as Younger Chanyeol turned on his laptop.  
  
“I was thinking that it was going to be the first day, I was going to defy my parents,” Chanyeol answered as Younger Chanyeol opened up his browser. “I was just so angry and upset that I did it without thinking of any consequences.”  
  
The pair walked outside of the room as the hallway morphed into his living room. His parents were there and they both waited patiently. He had two school letters, both replies to his applications. He had one from the school his parents wanted him to go to and the other was the music school.  
  
His parents didn’t say anything when they handed him both.  
  
Younger Chanyeol opened the letter from the school his parents wanted. He took out the letter and read. The moment he saw _‘congratulations’_ and _‘accepted’_ , he handed the letter over to his mother. He felt relief wash over him, his parents would be proud. But at the same time, he knew that no matter what his music letter said, he was going to the school he didn’t care for. To major in a subject that he had no interest in.  
  
He tentatively opened the other letter as his parents praised him. When he saw the two same words on this letter, he momentarily closed his eyes.  
  
“What did it say?” his mother asked him. He only looked to her, never once letting his eyes shift over to his father. Chanyeol felt himself doing the same. After years of a rocky relationship with his father, it was usually better to avoid him at all costs. Even if they were in the same room together.  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Younger Chanyeol said as he put the letter back in the envelope and held onto it tightly.  
  
“That’s right,” his mother said, her image clear as crystal. “Now, I think it would be best for you to live on campus, that way you’d get the best out of your study time…”  
  
Younger Chanyeol smiled at his mother and said that he was going to get some homework done. But in reality, Chanyeol knew that his younger self would lock himself in his room and cry himself to sleep that night and for the next couple nights after.  
  
  
  
Younger Chanyeol sat in his seat in the middle of the class. The murmur around the seniors lately had been whether or not they made it into their first choice. Younger Chanyeol shared smiles with his classmates and told them his results.  
  
“Of course you got in,” one of them said. Younger Chanyeol could hear the resentment in his tone. “Must’ve been riding your dad’s coattails. Didn’t he go there too?”  
  
“Lay off,” Yun said, the moment he entered the room. Younger Chanyeol sat up a little higher in his seat when Yun came in. Chanyeol looked over at his best friends face. Except, the only thing that wasn’t blurred on his best friends face were the eyes.  
  
_Why was his face blurred?_ Chanyeol thought. Yun was someone who was important to him, so why were only his eyes uncovered. He should’ve been the only person in his memories he had a clear vision of. Chanyeol tried to search what little of his memory he had back for a face. But nothing came. It was just his eyes. He always loved his eyes though. They reminded him of perfectly shaped almonds.  
  
The others that were faced towards Younger Chanyeol, shifted away, leaving Yun and Younger Chanyeol to themselves. Luckily, Younger Chanyeol was seated next to his friend.  
  
“So, you got in?”  
  
Younger Chanyeol nodded. Chanyeol, who was standing at the center back with Baekhyun, shifted his step.  
  
“Let me guess,” Yun said as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re parents were ecstatic.”  
  
“To say the least,” Younger Chanyeol said. He looked down at his desk. Secretly hoping that Yun wouldn’t ask about—  
  
“Did you hear from—?”  
  
“They’re already planning on applying for dorms,” Younger Chanyeol cut off Yun. Younger Chanyeol snuck a gaze towards his friend, who offered him a small smile in return, sharing his sympathies. This was another reason Yun was a great friend. He knew when Chanyeol didn’t want to talk about something and never pressed the issue. “Did you get in?”  
  
Yun gave him another smile, but this time it was sadder. “Yeah.”  
  
Chanyeol remembers how he felt there. When his best friend and him would be going their separate ways after high school. Yun to the art school of _both_ their dreams. And himself, to a school he didn’t even care about. Younger Chanyeol was most definitely jealous. But he also felt a sadness fall over him as he thought of Yun and him going their separate ways. They wouldn't be able to share laughs together. Deep down he knew that they would both start getting busier and busier that they would start to make promises they wouldn't keep.  
  
He was feeling it now, looking upon the pair as they chatted quietly about their homework due for third period.  
  
Chanyeol needed to clear his throat when he felt a lump form. He knew that Baekhyun was looking at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at the other. Instead Chanyeol looked around the classroom. He couldn’t remember their names and couldn’t recognize their blurred faces.  
  
As his eyes danced around the room, he wondered how many of them were going through the same things that his younger self was. Did they also have parents who suffocated them? Who listened, but only to the things they wanted to here?  
  
Or were they lucky, like Yun? Who got the absolute privilege to have parents who just wanted their child to be happy with anything they chose?  
  
Chanyeol turned and walked out of the classroom. He walked down the student filled halls. Many were waiting until the warning bell, before heading inside. Chanyeol passed through the students which caused their images to fade in and out. He felt himself getting lost in the crowd.  
  
He wasn’t really thinking of a destination as he walked. And walked. He just knew he wanted to rid himself of this feeling. He wanted to get rid of everything.  
  
Everything.  
  
_Everything._  
  
  
  
With heavy breaths, he opened a door. It was the door to the roof. He staggered outside and walked right the the edge, where the high fence had just finished forming. He gripped the welded fence and leant his head against the cold metal with closed eyes.  
  
He took deep breaths through his nose.  
  
In the faint distance, Chanyeol heard the school bell ring but it felt like it was another world away.  
  
“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun was somewhere behind him. Chanyeol was so wrapped in his mind that he completely forgot about Baekhyun. About this...dream? Is it a dream? “Chanyeol?”  
  
Chanyeol opened his eyes. He saw the connection between the fence and the ledge of the roof. Chanyeol was tall enough, he knew he could easily climb the fence and make it over—  
  
He pushed himself away from the fence and stumbled into Baekhyun, who was a lot closer than Chanyeol anticipated. The pair tumbled over onto the ground. Chanyeol landing on top of the shorter.  
  
Neither groaned. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, Chanyeol didn’t feel any pain from the fall. Nonetheless, Chanyeol scrambled off of Baekhyun. The former turned around and started to apologize, but the latter cut him off.  
  
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said. He narrowed his eyes at him, like if he squinted hard enough the answer would appear. “Is everything okay?”  
  
“Yes,” Chanyeol said quickly. He looked down to the ground. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just weird to be here, but not… be here.”  
  
Chanyeol looked up and saw something flash in Baekhyun’s eyes. The latter quickly covered it.  
  
“I think you’ve seen enough here,” Baekhyun said as he got up. He turned back to the rooftop door, without looking back at Chanyeol.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
A man with light blonde hair was sitting at the small kitchen table that resided against the far wall. There were some dishes in the sink and smelled like coffee. The man took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee when a girl let out a giggle.  
  
“Jongin,” she said. “Stop it. I really have to go.”  
  
Chanyeol could hear kissing coming from just around the wall. He turned his head to look at the man at the table. He had his eyes closed, looking distraught. Chanyeol felt empathy when he looked at him. PDA wasn’t his favourite thing either.  
  
“Oh, Sehun,” Jongin said. Chanyeol had to admit that he was a looker. His dark brunette locks were disheveled and his smile bright. “You’re up.”  
  
Sehun said nothing as he looked up. He gave the girl a tentative smile and then went back to his coffee.  
  
  
Once she left, Jongin came into the kitchen and took the seat across from Sehun. He snatched the coffee Sehun was nursing and took a sip.  
  
“Just what I wanted,” Sehun said sarcastically, after Jongin put the cup back down in it’s original place. “A side of STD’s in my morning coffee.”  
  
Jongin rolled his eyes. “I get checked.”  
  
“Was that before or after you stuck your tongue down her throat.”  
  
Chanyeol watched as Jongin narrowed his eyes.  
  
“Everything okay?” Jongin asked. “You’re not usually this… mean.”  
  
“Just peachy.”  
  
“Se—”  
  
“I’m fine, Jongin,” Sehun said sharply, as he pushed himself from his seat. “I’m just tired.”  
  
“You always say that,” Jongin stood as well and grabbed his friend's elbow. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”  
  
Sehun nodded his head and let out a soft gasp when Jongin took him into his arms. They were both the same height, so it was easy for Jongin to tuck his head against Sehun’s neck.  
  
“Don’t forget you can talk to me about anything, okay?” Jongin said quietly, rubbing his friends back. Chanyeol felt something in his chest, a sort of longing, when he saw the pair hug. It had sort of reminded him of his relationship with Yun. How they both knew when the slightest thing was wrong. How they knew what to do to make it better. Just from the smallest shifts in tones or movements, they would be able to tell.  
  
_But then why didn’t he notice…_  
  
The thought came to Chanyeol fast, he hadn’t anticipated it. Notice what?  
  
  
The room changed again. But this time, Sehun most definitely wasn’t okay.  
  
“How the fuck am I supposed to get over him when he does that cutesy shit?” Sehun cried to his friend. Chanyeol wasn’t sure whose bedroom this was, but both Sehun and his friend were seated on the bed. His friend had his back against the headboard and gently brought Sehun’s head down onto his lap. “He’s my best fucking friend and I love him. What the fuck is wrong with me?”  
  
Oh. Chanyeol understood now.  
  
“Nothing,” His friend said quickly. “There is _nothing_ wrong with you.”  
  
“Then why do I feel so disgusting, Kyungsoo?” Sehun cried a little harder, making his words harder to understand. Chanyeol couldn’t help but empathize with Sehun. He knew what it was like to fall in love with someone he shouldn’t have.  
  
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Kyungsoo said again a little more forcefully. “Love doesn’t have a sense of timing nor does it care about your relationship with other people. It just does it’s own stupid thing and makes people suffer along the way. You love him, yes. He’s your _straight_ best friend, but he also loves you for being you.  
  
“I know it’s going to suck watching him date all these girls,” Kyungsoo sighed. “But the only thing you can do is be there for him as his friend. And if you need time away from him, then do it. Do it for the sake of your own happiness. I know Jongin, just as much as I know you, and I know neither of you guys want to hurt each other. But, sometimes, it’s needed. You can’t always be the perfect best friends.”  
  
Sehun sighed.  
  
Falling in love with his best friend, eh? Chanyeol bitterly thought to himself. That must be a fate worse than death.  
  
Just as Chanyeol thought that, his gazed flickered over to Baekhyun, who was looking at the pair of boys. The only thing Chanyeol focused on though, were his eyes.  
  
Always his eyes.  
  
And there it was. Another memory. Another whisper.  
  
_I really love your eyes._  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“Smile!”  
  
A blinding flash stained Younger Chanyeol’s vision. Now every time he blinked there would be that stupid square behind his lids.  
  
“Mom,” Younger Chanyeol groaned after _another_ picture was taken. “I think I’ve taken enough pictures.”  
  
His mother huffed as another blurred mother of Younger Chanyeol’s class mate came over to talk with her.  
  
“Sooyoung,” she said as she came over. She sent a nod in Chanyeol’s father's direction. “Minho, How are you?”  
  
Chanyeol, _finally_ , looked over at the image of his father. As he looked at him, he finally realized why the child from before look familiar. The boy was his father. They had that same stubbornness and same sadness in their eyes. But, his father also had crows feet, which showed just how tired he was. Chanyeol looked at his father a little longer and started to wonder what had happened to Sunyoung.  
  
“Swell,” he said. He gave her a faint smile and played around with the camera some more.  
  
Younger Chanyeol looked around the school grounds. Parents were the only ones who genuinely looked happy to see their children graduate. Whereas, the children couldn’t wait to get it all over with.  
  
He tuned back into the conversation between his mother and her friend.  
  
“...yes, Chanyeol is going to the top university,” his mother said proudly. She grabbed onto Chanyeol’s elbow and pulled him closer to her, showing him off like a prized possession. “It’s his dream to go to the same school as his father and I did.”  
  
Younger Chanyeol had to force himself to not roll his eyes. Another group of mothers wandered over, Younger Chanyeol took this as his opportunity to try and escape his mother’s grasp.  
  
“Um, mother,” Younger Chanyeol said quietly to her. “I’m going to go look for Yun.”  
  
“Yun? Nonsense, stay here and talk with us,” his mother said, she pulled him closer once again. Chanyeol noticed how she side-eyed his father, who still looked at the camera.  
  
“Did you say Yun?” One of the blurred mothers said, there was amusement in her tone. “I heard that he got into that art school.”  
  
She said art like it was beneath her. Chanyeol felt the rage build in his chest as they continued to laugh at Baekhyun and his choice of university.  
  
“Like mother like son,” one of them chipped in.  
  
“Oh, Sunyoung,” one of the other blurred mothers said. Chanyeol heard a gasp fall out of Baekhyun’s mouth. Or at least he thought he did. Chanyeol turned to Baekhyun and saw that his eyebrows were scrunched and looked concerned. When Chanyeol turned his head, following Baekhyun’s gaze, he gasped himself.  
  
It couldn’t be.  
  
It _was_ Sunyoung, the same little girl from before.  
  
Younger Chanyeol gave her a polite smile while she gave him a gentle pat on his arm, telling him that Yun was looking for him.  
  
Chanyeol was still grasping his mind around everything. Yun’s mother, was his father’s childhood friend. The friend that he never once talked about, never once mentioned to Chanyeol. _She_ knew about his father’s terrible childhood. She _knew_ that his father was forced to lead the life, he was currently living. Did she also know that his father was going the same thing to his own child?  
  
It did make sense though, why Yun was able to do everything he was doing. His mother understood what would happen to her child if she forced things upon him. Why couldn’t his parents have realized that too?  
  
Chanyeol looked over to his father, who finally looked up from the camera. He was looking at Sunyoung with a fondness that he had never seen in his father’s eyes before. Younger Chanyeol didn’t even notice, he was trying to find a way to escape the hoard of parents.  
  
Another memory came to him then. It was something that set him on edge, even remembering it now made him angry. Chanyeol wasn’t even surprised when the room started to morph into that very same memory. It was like he was reliving it again. There was no Younger Chanyeol now, just him.  
  
It was later on that same day, after he spent sometime with Yun and his other friends, whose parents were also huddle together showing off their children. He was making his way back to his parents but decided to make a detour to the washroom. When he turned down the secluded hall, he found something he wished he hadn’t.  
  
It was his father pushing Sunyoung up against the wall, forcibly kissing her.  
  
Chanyeol remembered feeling hurt. Confusion. Anger. But also, he had reached an epiphany. He realized that his father treated him the way he did because his father was unhappy with the life he was living. He took his frustration out on Chanyeol. He forced his will upon Chanyeol even though he knew how much that would affect a child.  
  
“Wait,” he heard Sunyoung say. “Your family. I can’t— I won’t—”  
  
“If it wasn’t for the pregnancy, I would be with you.” his father said. “If it wasn’t for Chanyeol—”  
  
“That is your _child_ , Minho,” Sunyoung shot back. “And he is my child’s _best friend_. I am not going— “ She let out a frustrated sigh as his father leaned his head against her shoulder. “I am not going to do that to them.”  
  
“What about Sooyoung?”  
  
“She knows what she did,” Sunyoung said as she gently pushed him off of her. “She doesn't deserve my sympathies.”  
  
Chanyeol had turned away then leaving the scene behind him.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“Are you okay, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asked him quietly.  
  
“No,” Chanyeol said mumbled. He felt… heartbroken. Angry. Lost. And everything he was feeling he knew he had felt before, but he also knew that it was a lot worse than it was now. So, so much worse. “I don’t like feeling like this.”  
  
He said that mostly to himself. And it was true. He hated these feelings. He hated feeling hopeless, like everything he tried to do to make things better swings around and punches him in the stomach. He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to forget everything again.  
  
He wanted to end everything… _again_.  
  
Again?  
  
Chanyeol took in a staggered breath as he remembered the sensation of opening a bottle with shaky hands. He remembered pure determination.  
  
“Come on,” Baekhyun said gently pulling Chanyeol out of his thoughts.. His chains rattled as he reached out to touch his shoulder..  
  
“I don’t think I can take it anymore, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol mumbled again. He was afraid to find out what was on the other side of that door. “I can’t.”  
  
“I promise you,” Baekhyun moved his hand over to Chanyeol’s chin so they can meet eyes. “I promise you that this is the last door.”  
  
It could’ve been the second last door, or even the thirtieth door until the end. It didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that he had a terrible, sinking feeling that this door would bring light to this entire situation. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready to find out.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Chanyeol wrung his hands together as his old bedroom formed before them. He could feel the sweat starting to form on his hands as his younger self opened his door.  
  
Younger Chanyeol closed his bedroom door and looked around the small area. He looked at the scattered papers over his desk. His unmade bed. The clothes he had left on his floor from the previous night.  
  
Chanyeol remembered what it felt like when he pushed himself off the door and made his way to his bathroom. But he distinctly remembered the heaviness of the bottle in his hands. They were prescribed to his mother for her sleeping problems that started months before his graduation.  
  
Chanyeol knew that both of their reflections would be in the mirror but, even now, he couldn’t look, just like how it was back then.  
  
Younger Chanyeol walked out of the bathroom and went to his desk. He found a spare piece of paper and grabbed a sharpie from his pen holder. He scribbled his message and left it on top of his desk. It was something simple. Something for everyone to know that it wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t— it didn’t matter whose fault it was or wasn’t. Not anymore. He just knew that there would be a disarray, for whoever found him.  
  
_Found him._  
  
Laying dead.  
  
Or at least he hoped.  
  
It was strange Chanyeol thought as he watched himself. He had been so, so calm about this. But all he could think about was how close he was to finally _feeling nothing_. He could _finally_ put an end to his pain. To his unhappiness.  
  
  
  
They were all in the washroom now. Chanyeol and Baekhyun were standing in the doorway, as his younger self turned on the light. He took a deep breath before he finally looked up into the mirror. Chanyeol did so as well.  
  
He had looked so tired. The bags under his eyes were deep; they didn’t carry the same light they used too. Looking at himself now, he didn’t fair any better. He looked just as bad, if not worse.  
  
He did his best to tune out the thoughts that came back to his mind. The panic that was starting to course through his veins as he watched himself open the lid of the bottle.  
  
_Shit_ , Chanyeol thought. He was really living this again. All the other doors never felt like this. _None_ of them made him relive the pain.  
  
He could feel his body trying to fight his mind. To fight the decision.  
  
Younger Chanyeol placed the opened bottle beside his sink and grabbed the cup that was next to his sink and filled it.  
  
He tipped the bottle and a couple pills fell into his hand. Both of his hands were shaking so instead of two falling, there were four.  
  
Fuck.  
  
He popped the pills into his mouth and took several gulps of water. Chanyeol remembered how hard it was to try to swallow those first two pills. It was like the first time he decided to play music instead of studying. He knew then that the moment he let himself, would be the moment of no turning back.  
  
Oh, fuck.  
  
He repeated the process so fast the by the time he swallowed the last pill, an empty bottle rolled on the bathroom floor. He walked over to the bathtub and laid down.  
  
He knew that his younger self wasn’t sure when it would take effect. He wasn’t sure if he had taken enough for it to work. He remembered he tried not to think about anything as he laid against the cold, cold plastic of the tub.  
  
Chanyeol felt himself walk over to the toilet and sit on the closed lid. He could watch now. He could count the seconds, minutes until the pills would take effect.  
  
Younger Chanyeol closed his eyes, but the bathroom light was too bright.  
  
Chanyeol looked over at the light switch. He should turn off the light. So, it’s like he’s taking a nap. He should turn it off. But he couldn’t find it in himself to move. Instead, he turned his gaze back to himself.  
  
It was hard for the other to open his eyes.  
  
He should...turn it off…  
  
  
  
Slowly, he watched himself, fade into the darkness. And slowly, his breathing was becoming sparse.  
  
“C-can we go now?” Chanyeol breathed out. But still he couldn’t move. Couldn’t take his eyes off of himself. This was what it was like to watch someone die, to watch _yourself_ die.  
  
“It’s not over,” Baekhyun said ever so quietly that he almost missed the words.  
  
Chanyeol wanted to reach out, to make sure that what he was seeing was real, but he was afraid. He knew it was real and it scared him.  
  
“Chanyeol,” he heard a familiar voice call out to him. It was Yun.  
  
“Chanyeol?” the voice called out again and Chanyeol turned his head to the bathroom door as he heard Yun shuffled closer and closer.  
  
“Please, no,” Chanyeol whispered. “Not him.”  
  
Yun left out a small gasped as he saw Younger Chanyeol.  
  
Chanyeol felt his heart clench.  
  
“C-Yeollie?”  
  
And then shatter as he let out a small gasp. That was the name, Yun, used to call him when he was concerned.  
  
“Yeollie.” Yun walked over to the body. He knelt down by the tub and Chanyeol was close enough to see the tears bubbling in Yun’s left eye.  
  
The younger reacted out a shaky hand and shook his friend's shoulder. He kept shaking and shaking, he even placed his other hand on the other side of his friends body. But there was nothing that could be done.  
  
“He’s dead,” Chanyeol whispered, though he knew that Yun couldn’t hear him. “I-I’m dead.”  
  
Yun was sobbing now, in his friend's chest. “No, no. You weren’t supposed to leave me yet.” He placed his hands on either side of his friends face and rested their foreheads together. It was for the briefest of moments but Chanyeol was sure that he felt the touch now. It was faint, but it was there. He reached his hand up to touch the spot and as he did so, from the corner of his eyes he saw that Baekhyun mimicked his action.  
  
Chanyeol looked over at Baekhyun, who was intently staring at the scene in front of him. There was a deep frown on his face. He wanted to question it, but Yun pulled him attention.  
  
“Mrs. Park,” Yun called out with a scratchy voice. He pulled his head away from the body and needed to clear his throat before he could call out again. “Mrs. Park, call the ambulance.”  
  
This time it was loud enough, Chanyeol could hear the worry in her voice and she bound up the stairs.  
  
“Call the ambulance,” Yun said again. “Chanyeol’s hurt.”  
  
Everything seemed to become muted as she appeared in the bathroom door way. It was like Chanyeol was sitting on the other side of a wall. He could only make out the tones of their voices. The closer his mother got to his body, the further and further Chanyeol need to get away from her. Being too close to her brought on a sense of resentment that he didn’t want to feel.  
  
He felt a gentle tug on his sleeve and without much of a fight, Chanyeol let Baekhyun lead him out of the bathroom. When they stepped through the doorway, there was a flash.  
  
  
  
It was a graveyard. The pair were standing several headstones away from the ceremony that took place in front of them. Chanyeol immediately recognized his parents and Yun. The three of them were surrounded by friends and family, as the priest called Yun to speak.  
  
“B…” Chanyeol choked. “Y-Yun.”  
  
To say that Chanyeol felt like the world's worst human would be an understatement. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between his death and funeral. But he could tell that Yun was distraught. It was different than how everyone else was. To Chanyeol, it looked like he was so physically, so mentally broken that it was harder for him to function.  
  
And he was the cause of that. He couldn’t bear to stay here any longer.  
  
“You...fucking promised, Yeol,” Yun said, with a thick voice. The some of the others gave him sympathetic looks while sobs could be heard in the crowd. Heads bowed. “What happened to our promise?”  
  
That was the last and only thing Chanyeol heard before he turned, with Baekhyun, back to the hallway.  
  
Much like always Baekhyun ended up back in his chains, hovering over the coffee table and Chanyeol on the couch. Both were still silent. Baekhyun because he never really spoke out of turn. And Chanyeol because the final words from Yun kept repeating over and over in his mind. And finally, like a light that flickered on, he remembered.  
  
It was back when they were both children. After Yun’s mother told him a story about a boy she grew up with, who wasn’t happy but still did everything he parents asked of him. Knowing what Chanyeol did now, he could understand why his mother had told him that story.  
  
But that night, when they had their game night, Yun made him promise that they would both do their damnedest to do what makes them happy.  
  
“You know, I don’t,” Chanyeol said, and looked down in his lap. His fingers were clenched together. “I don’t regret killing myself.”  
  
Chanyeol heard a rustle in the chains, but he kept his head down as he spoke.  
  
“I do feel bad that I left Yun in pain, I regret breaking our promise,” Chanyeol started to fidget his hands. “But I don’t regret doing it.  
  
“Having your parents always talk down to you is a tough thing for a child, you know? And having to deal with it for years and years, puts a real strain on me. Nothing was ever good enough. I always needed to do better. School was always more important. Oh, I got an A? I needed to get a better A. I got first place in school rankings? I needed to maintain that without dropping out of first spot. I had to excel in everything I wanted to do.  
  
“The only thing I had was music...and Yun. Those were my own. Something that I could turn to when I needed a break. But when...when I got those stupid acceptance letters and Yun got into to the art school. I was so fucking jealous that I found myself hating him because he got the chance to do what he wanted. He didn’t have to deal with his parents hounding him about getting better grades.”  
  
“Do you?” Baekhyun asked quietly. “Do you hate him?”  
  
It was the way Baekhyun had asked him that had Chanyeol meet the other's gaze so quickly.  
  
“No, I could never. Will never hate him. I-I love—,” Chanyeol paused. Baekhyun looked at him differently then. It was the way his eyebrows had scrunched together ever so slightly that Chanyeol couldn’t finish his thought. “There was so much shit happening that it was hard for me to find any good left in the world.”  
  
“Would you want to undo what you did?”  
  
Chanyeol took a moment. Leaving his best friend, without so much of a forewarning, not even a proper goodbye. That, to Chanyeol, was the worst thing he had ever done.  
  
Thinking of it now, Chanyeol realized that life was full of challenges and it was always going to be. There’s going to be a lot of shitty people in his life that would make things unbearable. But he knew he needed to remember to fight. Fight for what he wanted in life. Fight for his own happiness or he would end up living a life that he hated, like his father. A life that would leave him feeling empty and numb.  
  
He needed to remember that the only opinion that should matter to him is his own. That he is his own source of happiness.  
  
Still, he found himself thinking of Yun. He had always been there for Chanyeol, and he was sure, that if Chanyeol was still around, that his friend would always be too. Of all the people Chanyeol had known, Yun was a constant that reminded him that he didn’t always need to do what his parents said. Yun, in his own way, had been a source of hope to Chanyeol. And he only realized it now.  
  
“If I told you, that I could send you back, would you want to go?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The purpose of this entire thing,” Baekhyun explained. “Was, _is_ , to determine if you deserve to get your soul reincarnated, or if you deserve to get your soul sent to the abyss.”  
  
“The abyss?”  
  
“It’s a place where your soul would be for all of eternity and you would never get the chance to live again,” Baekhyun paused. “But I don’t think that you deserve to go to either place.”  
  
“Wh— “  
  
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun cut him off. “If I give you the chance to go back, would you want to?”  
  
Chanyeol paused and the only thing that came to mind were the crescents of his best friends eyes. “Yes. Yes, I would want to.”  
  
“Can you promise me that you’ll try?” Baekhyun asked.  
  
Chanyeol nodded.  
  
Baekhyun regarded him for a moment before he briefly shut his eyes.  
  
When he opened them again he gave Chanyeol a small smile. “It’s done.”  
  
Chanyeol looked around and everything was still the same.  
  
“You’ll slowly disappear from here and go back,” Baekhyun explained. He nodded down at Chanyeol’s feet.  
  
He looked down and saw that his feet had disappeared and it was slowly working it’s way up. Chanyeol stood at the sight, though, with his feet gone he wasn’t sure how he was doing so.  
  
When he looked up, Baekhyun had risen his chains, so they were eye to eye.  
  
Chanyeol wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what to do.  
  
“Will I remember?” He asked quietly.  
  
Baekhyun shook his head. “No, you won’t remember anything. But I’m hoping that subconsciously, you’ll be able to make the right decisions.”  
  
Chanyeol nodded his head. He was starting to feel nervous. What was going to happen when he got back? _When_ was he going back too? Was he going to be in the hospital when he wakes up? All these thoughts started to fill his mind and his eyes were frantically looking around.  
  
It was the slight rattle of chains that brought him back from his thoughts.  
  
“Why are you in chains?” He found himself asking to get out of his own head.  
  
Baekhyun chuckled. “You’re asking me this now?”  
  
“Well, if I’m going back, then there’s no point in keeping it a secret, right?”  
  
Baekhyun opened his mouth to answer, but paused. He scrunched his brows together. “I think— I think it’s because I’m tied down.”  
  
“You think?”  
  
“To be quite honest, I don’t remember,” Baekhyun said. Chanyeol watched his eyes flicker down and he saw his eyes widen. When Chanyeol looked down, there was nothing below his breastbone. Chanyeol looked back at Baekhyun quickly, but he didn’t feel nervous anymore.  
  
Instead, it looked to be that Baekhyun was the one who was nervous.  
  
“C-Chanyeol,” Baekhyun stuttered out. He was scared. It reminded Chanyeol so much of—  
  
The pair let out a gasp at the same time, just as Chanyeol’s vision was starting to get faint.  
  
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said again. But this time, it was different. “Yeollie.”  
  
Baekhyun reached out his hand to Chanyeol. But so much of him had already disappeared.  
  
Baekh _yun_. Chanyeol wanted to call out to him. He wanted to tell him something.  
  
He wanted to tell him that—  
  
I’ve always liked your eyes.  
  
Then everything faded with a bright light.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Baekhyun walked up to the front door of his best friends home. He had noticed lately that things had been a little off. He seemed more agitated and less cheerful than he normally was. There was a sadness in his eyes that Baekhyun almost couldn't understand what it was. It was really until graduation that he noticed it. But even then, Baekhyun wasn’t sure.  
  
The moment the door open, he offered Mrs. Park his usual smile. They exchanged quick greetings and Baekhyun made his way to Chanyeol’s room. The thumping of his footsteps echoed in the quiet, empty hall. To Baekhyun it felt like an eternity before he made it to his friends door. Baekhyun took a stuttered breath before he gently knocked on the door and pushed his way inside.  
  
“Chanyeol?”  
  
Baekhyun did a quick scan of his room. The computer desk, directly in front of him, was empty. As was the bed.  
  
There was a light on in his bathroom. Baekhyun felt his cheeks heat at the thought of Chanyeol walking out in a towel. His friend wasn’t one to close his bathroom door. Nor was he the one to care how clothed he was in his room.  
  
But there wasn’t a fan running in the bathroom. In fact, Chanyeol’s room was just as quiet as the hallway.  
  
“Chanyeol?”  
  
Baekhyun made tentative steps towards the bathroom. The first thing he saw when he walked in the room was the small, empty medicine bottle on the floor. The next was Chanyeol in the bathtub. His arms were on the sides of the tub and his head resting on the back. Like he was taking a nap. Baekhyun wanted to scolded his friend for not using his bed.  
  
Only.  
  
Baekhyun took a step closer.  
  
Chanyeol wasn’t breathing.  
  
~  
  
The funeral was probably the hardest part for him. Or maybe it was just the fact that Baekhyun was going to have the live the rest of his life without his best friend, without…  
  
Funerals were the worst  
  
~  
  
It was so dark. So quiet.  
  
_Was this how he felt when he was alone?_  
  
He wasn’t sure what time of day it was. Wasn’t sure what month it was.  
  
_He just wanted it to stop._  
  
How many days had it been since the funeral? How many days had it been without…  
  
_All this guilt._  
  
It was the first time he had been out of his bedroom for a while. But he didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to socialize. Instead, he crept through his home, hoping that he was alone.  
  
_He should’ve been there._  
  
He was.  
  
_He should’ve noticed._  
  
He walked down the creaky stairs to the kitchen, where the medicine was.  
  
_‘I’m sorry.’_  
  
There was a variety to choose from. Baekhyun briefly wondered what— _he_ — had used. But Baekhyun knew what he was going to use.  
  
~  
  
White. That was the first thing Baekhyun saw. His eyes started to come into to focus. He turns his head once. Twice. He sees the chains.  
  
But he doesn’t panic. He knows where he is. He knows what he has to do.  
  
Just then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a boy leaning over the bar. _He got through the first door,_ Baekhyun thought to himself, _finally_.  
  
“Hello,” Baekhyun said.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Chanyeol raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess.  
  
He took one. Two. Three deep, staggered breaths.  
  
His hand was shaking so much when he reached out to open the bottle. His fingers touched the top of the lid but before he could twist off the lid, he let the bottle drop from his hands and onto the floor.  
  
He could feel his whole body shaking. He heart was beating so loud, that he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.  
  
He took more deep breaths as he used the wall to help him walk. His bed was too far, so he settled for sitting in his bathtub, knees to his chest.  
  
“Chanyeol?”  
  
He heard feet shuffling in his room. He tried to slow his breath and call out his name.  
  
“ — Yun” He took another breath as the steps got closer and a head peered around the corner. “Baekhyun.”  
  
“C-Yeollie?” Baekhyun said, immediately rushing to his side. “W-what’s wrong?”  
  
“I-I need help,” Chanyeol said as the lump in his throat formed. And tears in his eyes blurred his vision.  
  
“Oh, Yeol.”  
  
Chanyeol felt the warmth of his best friends embrace. He knew then that it was going to be okay.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
\---  
  
EPILOGUE  
  
_Beep. Beep. Beep—_  
  
Chanyeol groaned as he slammed off the alarm. He barely had his eyes open as he stumbled his way to the washroom in the small studio apartment. He wasn’t sure whose stack of papers he hit, but at this current time he didn’t care. He had a bladder he needed to empty.  
  
He walked head first into the door and groaned just as it swung open. Chanyeol pushed his way inside, ignoring the mumbled “gross” as he immediately emptied his bladder.  
  
Chanyeol flushed and wash his hands as a voice called out to him  
  
“Hurry up and get ready,” Baekhyun shouted from the kitchen. “We’re going to be late.”  
  
Chanyeol let out a hum. Though, he wasn’t sure if the other heard.  
  
“And make sure you bring your own music sheets this time. Just because we’re seniors now, doesn’t mean I’m going to let you slack off.”  
  
Chanyeol hummed again as he walked out of the bathroom. A little more awake than he was before. But instead of doing what was asked, he walked over to the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Baekhyun’s small frame, kissing his nape.  
  
  



End file.
